


1970

by pipisafoat



Series: 1970 [2]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-05
Updated: 2011-07-05
Packaged: 2017-10-21 01:22:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/219335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pipisafoat/pseuds/pipisafoat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daniel doesn't know why being stuck in the past is so hard for her. Maybe it's because she knows she was alive, but she can't remember it. Maybe it's because Jack so clearly does remember it. Then again, maybe she just misses her computers. He used to know her so well, on alien planets, but their own planet, their own past makes her a mystery.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1970

"I'm taking the day off," she announces, loud in the silence of their loft. Daniel looks nervously out the window to see if anybody heard, if anyone has noticed they're squatting in the building, but the streets are still empty. They are the only ones who rise with the sun. "Daniel, put your shoes on."

He does it without question. Sometimes he wonders if he'd still be her companion of choice, if Jack and Teal'c didn't spend their days in the woods anymore. But they have to eat, and he's never been any good at hunting, and she's plenty good but more necessary on the science of getting them back to their own time. He doesn't mind helping her, even when the physics is over his head, but sometimes he thinks she minds.

"What do people do for fun in 1970?"

He shrugs. "We're having fun today?"

She doesn't answer, just walks faster. Daniel doesn't know why being stuck in the past is so hard for her. Maybe it's because she knows she was alive, but she can't remember it. Maybe it's because Jack so clearly does remember it. Then again, maybe she just misses her computers. He used to know her so well, on alien planets, but their own planet, their own past makes her a mystery.

He follows her into a library, watches as she picks a row seemingly at random, and decides to leave her to own devices. He looks longingly at the back of the library, where his preferred books have always been, but he settles into the children's section where he can at least keep an eye on the door. It's best not to wander around the city alone when you don't technically exist, they've found in their year here.

He flips idly through some picture books and watches Sam finally pick a book and settle into a chair before sliding into the stacks nearby. His fingers graze lightly over the spines of the books, almost as much a relic as the office full of stone tablets he won't have for another 27 years.

"Is there something I can help you find?" a librarian asks quietly. He hesitates, realizes how it might look for a man to just be walking around the children's section, and nods.

"I'm just looking for something for my nephew to read," he replies just as quietly, sneaking a quick glance over to be sure Sam's still there. "He's coming tomorrow for a couple of weeks, and I don't want him to be bored."

The librarian smiles. "How old is he?"

Daniel flounders internally for a second. "Five."

"These are very popular for that age," she says, pointing to a series nearby. "Why don't you bring him back with you tomorrow and we can help him pick something out himself?"

He nods, picks up one of the books from the series. "He's shy, but I'll see what I can do," he promises. "Thank you."

The librarian nods and slips away, and he relaxes. Through the gaps between books, he can see Sam still at her table with whatever book she'd picked out, looking a little less tense than before. A half-smile twitches his lips unexpectedly, and he moves towards her. It's not until he's sitting down that he realizes he still has the children's book in his hand.

"What's that?" Sam asks without looking up at him. She's got a historical fiction novel that he's pretty sure she's just skipped to the middle of. Not even he can read that quickly.

He shrugs. "Librarian."

She takes it from his hand and flips through the pages, an elbow holding her own book open. "Looks interesting."

"Yeah."

"Daniel--" She starts to look up at him, but then she freezes, staring at the book. "Jesus, Daniel, you should have said something."

He pulls the book out of her grasp and covers what he knows she must have seen - DANIEL JACKSON printed in a child's handwriting on several lines of the circulation card. "It's a good book," he murmurs, rising from his seat.

Her hand wraps around his wrist and pulls him back down. "When we decided to stop here for the winter. You should have said something."

"It made sense," he argues. "It's warm enough here that we didn't get sick and die in the snow, and we're still far enough north that getting back to the gate when it's time won't be hard. There was nothing to say."

"How old are you?" she asks, and he doesn't pretend to misunderstand.

"Five."

She breathes out slowly. "Do you live in the city still? With your parents?" His eyes wince shut, all the answer she needs. "Jesus, Daniel."

"I just want to go home," he whispers into the blackness behind his eyelids. He doesn't know if he means 1999 or the house his child self lives in now, but it doesn't matter anymore. As he drops his forehead onto the table, Sam threads her fingers into his hair and rubs gently at his scalp.

"I know."


End file.
